Come, heare the playning and the bitter bale
Of worthy men, by fortune’s[1514] ouerthrowe:
Come thou, and see them rewing all in rowe,
They were but shades, that erst in minde thou rolde:
Come, come with mee, thine eyes shall them beholde.”
23.
What coulde these wordes but make mee more agast,
To heare her tell whereon I musde while ere?
So was I mazde therewith, till, at the last,
Musing vpon her words, and what they were,